Dip Dip and Swing
by GlitchBuru
Summary: A truly Canadian tale about ice swimming, beer, and just what to do when you've got a folk song stuck in your head.


**Dip dip and swing**

_My paddle's keen and bright  
Flashing with silver  
Follow the wild goose flight  
Dip, dip and swing_

Canada drew his paddle out from the ultramarine waters, gazing at the nature around him. Above, geese flew south for the winter, chirping amongst themselves. He wouldn't be able to do this much longer; the geese told him enough. The snow was coming, that soft, crystal blanket that drenched his lands in white. The sun was beginning to set out on the horizon, painting the skies coral. Canada sighed and continued paddling, for it was about time to arrive at the shore- she was waiting, after all.

_Dip, dip and swing her back  
Flashing with silver  
Swift as the wild goose flies  
Dip, dip and swing _

She blew her bangs out of her way, lips pursed and slightly chapped- a result of an old habit that just wouldn't die down. If she looked hard, she would see him on the waters, paddling to shore. But something was troubling her, forcing her to move from her cozy spot in the sand. _What...is he doing what I think he's doing? That idiot! _She opened her mouth to speak.

"Matthew, you're _not_ going to dive in!" the man responded with a quick, shameless flick of the finger_, _ripped off his navy t-shirt and jumped off the canoe, making a splash that could have been one of the loudest sounds to ever be made that day. Her hand slapped her face almost subconsciously as he cockily breast-stroked to shore. "You...you freaking hoser. Don't you know how _cold _that water is?" He pulled himself out of the water and flashed her a half-apologizing, half-giddy smile.

"Oh take off Maddie. Who was the one who decided go polar bear plunging last New Years? With nothing but a bikini on? Obviously not me."

"_That _was _New Years Day_. I was drunk. You were pushing it. I felt like taking a dip. Besides, we didn't learn how to properly ice swim for nothing." She handed him his puffy winter jacket, a bright red one with their name, Canada, in capitals, and began walking, he treading close beside her.

_Land of the silver birch  
Home of the beaver  
Where still the mighty moose  
Wanders at will _

"Oh come off it, being drunk doesn't excuse you. We've done that countless times before completely sober! You just need to embrace your inner Canadian- oh look, a beaver!" Matthew ran over and picked up the creature. It's eyes were blank, as if he was used to all of this. Which was highly probable.

"Eh? Oh Matt, stop tormenting it. I think they have to go through enough being our mascot."

"One of our _many _mascots, thank you very much. Aw, aren't you a cute little- AUGH!" The beaver, clearly fed up with the coddling, bit down on Matthews' finger and jumped down from his arms.

"You're a dork, Matt. Let's get going." he was sucking on his bitten finger now, as if he was still some little child.

"...I'm not going to get an infection, am I?"

"I'll give _you_ an infection. By the way..." Madeline pointed to the open waters.  
"...What are we going to do with the canoe?" Matthew chuckled and patted the woman's back.

"Oh, the canoe. The wandering traveller could make some use of it I'm sure. Boom diddy-ah da."

She shook her head and quickly realized just what song he was referring to at the end of his sentence.

"...If you start singing _Land of the Silver Birch _I'm going to call the beaver back."

"Oh, don't get all hosed now. We still have a long walk back to the car, eh?"

_Blue lake and rocky shore  
I will return once more  
Boom diddy-ah da, boom diddy-ah da, boom diddy-ah da, ehaaa _

As the walked, they talked about all kinds of things- the economy; the current state of their military; hockey; what to buy at the Beer Store later...yes, it was normal for them to end up talking about lighthearted topics once they got fed up with the serious ones.

"I'd like to get a two-four of Molsons if that's okay with you. You know, the _real_ Canadian beer."

"No, no, _no_. Matt, what we need right about now is a nice Pill. What do you say?" The man sighed and looked down at his counterpart.

"Ugh, but we get Pill all the time."

"We get Molsons even more!"

"Fine, let's just get both. Then we can both get piss drunk with the aid of our favourites. Deal?" Madeline smirked at him and pushed up her glasses.

"Sounds good. You're buying, eh?" Matthew emptied his pockets in response. Nothing but a bunch of flimsy, coloured papers.

"Ah...all I've got is Canadian Tire money from earlier when we bought that canoe. Since you can't buy beer there, it looks as though you'll be paying. Sorry!" She glared at him with her strong violet eyes, but knew she couldn't win with an excuse like that. Such a shame.

_High on a rocky ledge  
I'll build my wigwam  
Close to the water's edge  
Silent and still _

They continued their trek to the parking lot, admiring the natural beauty around them. It was quite dark now, but the sky was clear and the stars were bright enough to illuminate the forest- though they had packed some flashlights just in case it wasn't enough. On their way, they noticed a clearing- a ledge, if you will. The pair, somewhat tired from all the walking, decided to stop and take the breathtaking scene in.

"...It's so beautiful, this place. I know that we've been to countless parks like this one, but every time we go I see something different." The girl pulled her tuque down so it covered up her chilly ears- when you stood on a ledge like this, the wind would start to catch up with you. She wished deep down that it would capture her and sweep her away from everything, but it never would. It had more important things to attend to.

"Yeah, this place is a real beauty. Northern Ontario sure does have a lot of landmarks, eh? Just the kind of place for us."

Eventually, they had to rip themselves away from the forest once and for all. No more stops. No more polar bear plunges. No more petting the beavers. It was time to knock on duty's door once again, and put back on their quiet, peaceful masks. This wasn't to say that they _weren't _quiet and peaceful- it was just that that wasn't the only disposition they had. But they needed to keep their image up to please the people, the other nations. If the world was full of their people (Canadians, from coast to coast), maybe they could let loose a little more, get a noticed a little more. But they were a patient folk- so they came to these patches of heaven to forget about their role in this beautiful world.

"Hey, Matt. I think I see our car..."

"Yeah, you're right. You've got the key?"

"Of course."

The sense of regret in their voices was almost unbearable, but it had to be done. And they still wanted those two-fours. With Matthew in the drivers seat and Madeline in the passengers, they drove the highway into town. Vacation time was over, it was time to get back to business. But Canada would never forget the time they'd spent nestled within it's lands, and would surely be back. They always came back.

On the ride home, they sang.

"_My heart grows sick for thee  
Here in the low lands  
I will return to thee  
Hills of the north _

_Blue lake and rocky shore  
I will return once more  
Boom diddy-ah da, boom diddy-ah da, boom diddy-ah da, ehaaa"_

* * *

**Authors' Note: ****I wrote this story partly because I love my country and it's many sayings (Eh, hoser, take off, etc) and places/establishments (Canadian Tire, The Beer Store, etc) and partly because I've never been a big fan of how both Canada's are portrayed by the majority of the fandom. Matt and Maddie are seen as quiet, stuttering nobodies most of the time- I think that our rugged, open side should be emphasized more! Also, Land of the Silver Birch is a very well known folk song up here in the Great White North, and I've always wanted to put in a Canada fanfiction. Hopefully some of you who read this are Canadian and got the references in this fanfiction. If you aren't, I'd highly recommend looking up what they all mean. Please favourite and review, and thank you for your time.**


End file.
